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#Post#: 3015--------------------------------------------------
Haunted by the Past - Chapter 27 - Individual Concerns
By: RampageSports Date: April 3, 2016, 1:16 pm
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Author's Note: The Spenser, Hawk, Susan Silverman, Vinnie Morris
and Ives characters belong to mystery novelist Robert B. Parker.
Mr. Parker is one of my favorite authors, and his work is a
major influence on the the way I write. Whether I even come
close to mimicking his style is open to considerable debate, but
I have chosen to use his characters in this story as something
of an homage. My goal is to handle them as lightly as possible
and to maintain them as Mr. Parker created them. Any failure on
that front is completely my own.
[hr]
Haunted by the Past - Chapter 27 - Individual Concerns
I fought a wave of nausea as soon as I walked through the big
double doors of Tammany South, a place I was happy to leave
behind a long time ago.
My first stop was a large, mahogany desk in the center of the
waiting area, from which a pleasantly dressed young brunette
gave me a disinterested stare and a noncomittal smile as I
approached.
"May I help you?" she asked.
Her shiny little gold nametag revealed her name to be Beth.
"I'm here to see Mr. Cavanaugh," I said.
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No."
The noncommital smile melted into a firmly committed scowl.
"Mister Cavanaugh's time is very valuable," she said. "I'm
afraid you'll have to call and make an appointment to come
back."
She gave the word mister the same weight the staff of an actual
politician would lend to senator or governor.
"He'll see me," I said confidently.
She shook her head in mild frustration, and her voice took on
the cadence and enunciation reserved for the slow learners.
"I don't think you understand. Mister Cavanaugh's schedule is
full. There is no time for you."
"I understand just fine. But I think if you just give him my
name, he'll see me."
I flashed my sweetest smile. The one I use to show that
friendly, affable Richelle was currently in control.
Danni has seen the smile, and she says it needs work. She
claims it's condescending, and silently portends that violence
may ensue if I don't get what I want.
I don't understand what she's talking about. The smile sounds
perfect to me.
My new friend didn't move immediately, so I broadened the smile
to homicidal level. She shook her head again, but eventually
took my name and made the call.
The return call came within minutes. Beth stared at me and
nodded a tight little nod as she listened to what the caller had
to say. Her participation in the conversation was limited to a
curt okay as it ended.
She dropped the receiver back in it's cradle, then pointed to a
door over her left shoulder.
"Elevator is through there," she sniped, her eyes travelling
back to the desk. "Take it up to the fifteenth floor. They'll
be waiting."
No have a nice day. No explanation of who they were. Not even
an additional second of eye contact.
Guess I was wrong about the friend thing.
I passed through the door and did as she said. As I exited onto
the fifteenth floor, I was met by another pretty young woman — a
blond, this time — and led down a wide corridor to a pair of
dark, polished wood doors.
"You can go in," were the only words she said to me. Her
harried and annoyed demeanor suggested all was not currently
well in the Kingdom of Cavanaugh.
This was expected. I told Beth that Cavanaugh would see me. I
never said he would be happy about it.
I pulled the gleaming metal handle on one of the heavy doors and
entered Cavanaugh's office. It was richly appointed, with plush
carpets and paneled walls with dim lighting sconces spaced along
them. The light was unnecessary, as the room was awash in
sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind
the immense, cherry colored desk at the far side of the room.
The size of the desk was a clear symbol of the power wielded by
the man behind it. It was nearly a foot taller than the average
desk, a characteristic that — when coupled with the much shorter
than normal visitor chairs in front of it — was meant to be
intimidating.
"I didn't expect I'd ever see you again," he said from the
shadows, though I had no trouble picturing his smug face.
"The feeling is mutual," I said, "but we all have to live with
life's little disappointments."
"Please," he said, "have a seat."
"No thanks. I'll stand."
"Please," he said again. "I insist."
"That's nice," I said as I remained exactly where I was.
He was quiet for a moment, and my eyes had adjusted enough to
see the irritation in his countenance. He wasn't used to being
spoken to this way, and I was probably walking a little too
close to the edge. But I didn't care. Given our past, he
should expect nothing less from me.
"Your cheery disposition leads me to believe this is not a
social call," he said. "That raises the question of why you are
here. Perhaps financial distress has forced you to get back
into the game?"
"I think we both know I would live under a bridge and survive by
eating whatever vermin I could catch before I went to work for
you again."
"Oh, come now. Surely it couldn't have been so bad."
"Not at first, no. If you'd just let me go when I wanted to, it
probably would have been fine."
"I had to get my money's worth."
"You and I continue to have a different understanding of just
how much that should have been."
"I made you a star," he snapped, with an edge to his voice that
betrayed a level of emotion he normally doesn't allow himself to
display.
I have that effect on people.
"I made me a star," I shot back. "And I made you a sh*t load of
money in the process. It wasn't enough, though, was it?"
"You had a debt to fulfill."
"According to you. At any rate, that debt has been paid, so
let's just drop this."
"Very well," he said more calmly. "That brings us back to why
you're here."
"I have information for you."
"Is that so?"
"You're in business with a man named King Powers."
I knew the statement caught him by surprise, but the great
Declan Cavanaugh was much too slick to let something like that
show.
"Who I do business with is none of your concern," he said
smoothly.
"I wasn't asking you. I know for a fact that you're part of a
group attempting to buy into a sports complex in Finland. The
group is being led by an organization called the UMMA."
The additional specifics punched a hole in his Teflon facade,
and the concern registered on his face.
"I see I have your attention now," I said. "That's good. Now,
let me tell you a little about who King Powers really is."
Declan was somewhat aware of the events that had transpired in
Boston. After all, that was the reason I'd asked to walk away
in the first place. But I didn't have the stomach to go through
all the fine details then, and Cavanaugh hadn't really cared
anyway. All he saw was the golden goose trying to make a run
for it.
The years — and all the recent practice — made the story easier
to tell, and I refreshed his memory while also filling him in
regarding Powers' role in everything. As with last time,
Cavanaugh didn't seem to show much concern as I told my tale.
"I have to wonder," I said when I was finished, "what does
someone like you get from working with a man like Powers?"
"He was the contact," he said with a small shrug. "He had
someone within the UMMA organization feeding him information.
In fact, the deal was just about done when he brought it to me."
"He just needed your money."
"Yes," he said, "and there's the dilemma. I'm sorry about what
you had to go through back then, but you understand there's a
lot of money tied up in this deal. I can't let sentiment get in
the way of what's best for business."
"I understand just fine. Do you understand that Powers is here
to destroy me, and that you're helping him do it by backing
him?"
"Again, that is distressing. But I fail to see how it's my
concern."
I smiled wanly.
"I thought you might say that. And that brings us to the part
you will care about."
"Oh?"
"The deal you've been working on is dead. I ended it
yesterday."
He put on a condescending smile, certain that someone as
insignificant as me could not have interfered with his grand
business dealings.
"And how, exactly, did you do that?"
"I called the UMMA. Talked with someone who gives a sh*t and
told him about Powers. It seems the organization, as a whole,
is not eager to do business with a person like that."
He didn't ask how I knew who to call, or why they had listened.
Perhaps he'd been keeping tabs on me, and knew what I'd been
doing since we last saw each other. More likely, he simply
didn't care about the hows. I'd just told him his big money
deal was gone, which marked the end of his interest.
"I see," he said darkly. "That is upsetting."
"I fail to see how that's my concern."
"A fair point," he said after a moment's consideration.
As I had told Danni, Declan was all business. At that moment,
I'm certain he would have loved nothing more than to tear my
head right off of my neck, but he wouldn't risk everything he
had just for that brief moment of satisfaction.
"I do have a proposition for you," I said.
"And what might that be?" he asked doubtfully.
"I took the deal apart. I can put it back together for you."
"With you as my new partner, I'm guessing."
"Did you miss what I said before about the bridge and the
vermin? I want nothing to do with you."
"Why help me then?"
"I have a favor to ask."
The words were like a secret command that unleashed some sort of
mental programming in him. He leaned back in his chair, and
steepled his fingers in front of his chin. Suddenly, the scene
before him was comfortable and familiar. A peon had come to
grovel, pleading for his help.
"I'm listening," he said eagerly.
"I want Powers cut off completely. No more deal, no more
Warehouse. I want him out on his own."
It took him only a moment to get over his disappointment at the
paltry size of the request.
"What are you planning to do?"
"My concerns are not your concerns, remember?"
He smiled appreciatively.
"Very well," he said, "You have a deal. Powers is of no use to
me now, anyway. But answer me this: why would you vouch for me
to the organization?"
"First of all, I'm not vouching for you," I said. "I'll let
them know you've severed Powers from the deal. The rest is on
you. As for why... well, if the UMMA was willing to deal with
Powers, then who knows who they'll dig up to replace him? I
hate your guts, but at least I know what I'm getting."
"I'm touched," he said.
"And I'm done," I said. "I'll show myself out."
As I turned to leave, Cavanuagh saw fit to share his assessment
of my character.
"You know you've got more substance to you than I'd realized,"
he said. "You should've stuck around. You could've made
something of yourself."
I smiled without turning.
"I've done just fine," I said. "Walking away from that life —
and from you — is the best thing I ever did."
Then I walked away again, hopefully for the last time.
As I stepped out to the sidewalk, I was immediately assaulted by
the kind of intense, reflected sunlight you only experience in
the city. I shaded my eyes with my hand as I rounded the corner
to the lot where the TT was parked. The passenger window came
down as I approached, revealing Spenser in the near seat and
Danni behind the wheel. I leaned on the sill so they could both
see me.
"It's done," I said. "Powers is on his own."
"Wonderful," Danni said, still unhappy that we were here in the
first place.
"Would you relax? It's over, and I'm still here."
"Yeah. Now I get to worry about what comes next."
I glanced at her sideways as I turned my head to Spenser.
"What does come next, anyway?" I asked him.
"That depends on what Powers does," he answered.
"Speaking of which..."
"Vinnie has him, so I can get you ladies back to the RSI
facility."
He reached for the handle, and I straightened up so he could
open the door.
"No Stark Street for you, today?" I asked,
"You can imagine how disappointed I am," he said as he made his
way back to the Mustang parked behind Danni.
I swung myself into the TT's passenger seat, and the cavalcade
began.
"You still look pissed," I said to Danni when we were back on
the interstate.
"Concerned," she said.
The curt reply earned her another sideways look.
"Why do you sound like Steph?" I asked.
She drove along in silence, her eyes fixed steadfastly forward.
"Hey," I said, "don't lose it on me, now. We're coming to the
end of this."
"That's what has me worried."
At that point, I decided to shut up. We'd already beaten this
topic to death. Besides, she was right. Either this was going
to end the way I wanted or it was going to be a disaster. Both
results were worth worrying about.
The ride home was subdued, as was the majority of the day at
RSI. But I perked up a little when Spenser brought word from
Vinnie.
"Powers moved out of the club, and into an abandoned house a few
blocks into the neighborhood."
Aside from being a river of depravity and despair, Stark Street
is the gateway to the slums of Trenton.
For some reason, the idea of Powers being forced to hunt me from
a crumbling dump pleased me greatly.
"Now what?" Danni asked.
"Now, we await developments," Spenser said.
"More waiting," she groused. "Can't we do anything proactive?"
"We can be ready," he said.
"Because readiness is all," I said.
"Hey," he said evenly. "That's my line."
[hr]
Character Reference
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/x7gm9w22n/Richelle_100x120.jpg
Name: Richelle Winterfeld
Nickname(s):
Background: Owner of the RSI stable, former underground fighter
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/9av3z511b/Danni_100x120.jpg
Name: Danneel Harris
Nickname(s): Danni
Background: RSI stable leader, reigning DEF welterweight
champion
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/dsafuiy67/Stephanie_100x120.jpg
Name: Stephanie McMahon
Nickname(s): Steph
Background: RSI's fighter development coordinator, former SCQ
super heavyweight champion
#Post#: 3018--------------------------------------------------
Re: Haunted by the Past - Chapter 27 - Individual Concerns
By: Dragons Den Date: April 4, 2016, 1:43 am
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More brilliance! I'm enjoying this immensely, and am always
looking forward to more. I love your work, Richelle.
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